“Nope. That’s our song of choice, take it or leave it. Just know if you walk out that door, then you won’t get another shot with Cora. You gotta be a team player and all that shit,” Brett tells me.
My eyes drift over to Clay and see that he’s trying not to laugh.
He holds up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m just along for the ride.
“Fuck it,” I mutter as I stand.
Reaching over, I grab Brett’s beer and swallow the rest of the glass in one go.
“Hey, that’s mine!” he groans when I place his empty glass back in front of him.
I make my way to the stage and give the god-awful song of choice to the DJ.
The DJ smirks. “Good luck, Barbie.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter under my breath as I walk on stage.
I squint when a light hits me just right in the eyes. When the white spots in my eyes finally clear, I see the guys have their phones pointed right at me.
Clearly it can get worse.
When the song starts up, I grab the microphone. At first I try to just say the words and not sing it. I should have known that the guys wouldn’t let that slide, though, and they start booing.
Rolling my eyes, I decide to fully go for it and try my hand at singing. Even from up here, I know I sound awful, but I don’t give a fuck. Especially when at the end I’ll get their approval to date Cora. Logically I know I don’t need it, but I want it.
When the song ends, the guys cheer and I bow before making my way off stage.
“Please tell me I never have to do that again,” I plead as I grab my glass of water.
“Yeah, we can’t promise you that.” Clay chuckles before looking over at Wyatt. “You’re up.”
Wyatt rolls his eyes and stands. I’m shocked when he doesn’t put up a fight. The guy is so quiet I can’t imagine him standing on a stage.
As soon as he gets up there, though, under the lights, everyone falls silent. Then he opens his mouth and belts out the lyrics to a Rolling Stones’ song.
“Wait, he can fucking sing?” I hiss to the guys.
Without looking away from the stage, the guys nod.
“He can sing,” Clay says with pride in his voice.
Huh, who would have thought that the quiet goalie was a secret musician?
twelve
An incessant ringing is pulling me from my deep slumber. I jolt awake when I realize it’s my phone.
Looking at the screen, my heart clenches when I see Kellan’s name. “What’s wrong?” I hiss into the phone.
“Beautiful, are you awake?” He sounds a bit inebriated.
My stomach clenches at what he might have been up to in order to get so drunk. I have to trust him, though, so I choose to do so.
“I am now. Where are you?”
He laughs. “Walking home. It’s such a nice night. Isn’t it a nice night, Wyatt?”
“Bro, you are practically screaming. Chill out,” I hear Wyatt tell him.
